


Two Pink Drops

by sdk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Frotting, M/M, Potions Accident, dub-con, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 03:17:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdk/pseuds/sdk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just a little spill. What harm could that do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Pink Drops

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kisslicknipsuck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisslicknipsuck/gifts).



> Takes place during "8th" year.
> 
> Written for the 2013 Winter Fest at HD_Owlpost on Livejournal. Thanks to Roozetter and Torino10154 for the beta help! <3

It was just a little spill. Two pink drops splashed over the rim of the vial and landed on Harry's hand. He almost missed it, caught up in staring at Draco's face, which was screwed up in concentration as he poured their completed potion into the glass. Harry felt both grateful and a twinge of regret at the fact that as soon as this potion was turned in, Draco wouldn't have any reason to talk to him again. He'd go back to ignoring Harry as he had done since the first day they came back to Hogwarts to complete their education. In fact, before Slughorn had assigned them to be partners on this particular project, Draco had only spoken two words to him: A quiet "thank you" on the very first day when Harry had returned Draco's wand.

With a dozen cauldrons brewing, the normally drafty Potions classroom was thick with heat. Harry took the handkerchief he'd been using to dab the sweat off the back of his neck and wiped his hand clean, unfortunately tipping the vial he was holding in the process. 

"Careful," Draco hissed under his breath. "You'll spill it on me."

Draco took the vial, his fingers brushing over Harry's, and that's when it happened: A powerful zing went through Harry's body. His legs folded at his knees—fortunately his stool caught his fall—and he flushed all over, heat blazing across his cheeks, down his chest, all the way to his booted feet. 

When he looked at Draco, the feeling only intensified. 

Draco snatched Harry's handkerchief and unfolded it, his eyes going wide as he stared at the two pink splotches soiling the white cotton. 

"Potter," Draco said. Harry felt each syllable as if Draco were breathing them into his skin. "What have you done?"

***

Harry didn't know how Draco managed to get them excused from class, and he didn't much care as long as Draco didn't stop touching him. Granted, currently Draco just gripped his arm as he steered Harry down a corridor, but his hand felt like heaven even through the thickness of his school robes. Harry had the mad desire to rip them off, that instant—his shirt too, anything to feel Draco's palm against his bare skin.

"Where are we going?" Harry managed, his own footfalls short and stunted next to Draco's quick strides. Truthfully, Harry could have walked normally, he was certain of that. But when he stumbled and Draco swung an arm around his waist to keep him from falling, Harry couldn't bring himself to try. 

Laying his head on Draco's shoulder, he was overcome with Draco's scent. Draco smelled like the beach, like a crisp summer breeze. Harry badly, badly wanted to lick him. 

So he did. 

He didn't stop to question the desire. He simply pressed his face into the warm recess of Draco's neck and darted his tongue out for a taste. Draco froze, jerking Harry to a stop. 

"Potter," he said, his voice gruff. But Harry could hear the breathiness beneath, and when he laid his hand against Draco's stomach, Draco inhaled sharply. "We have to—we have to get to the hospital wing." 

Harry wanted to ask why—would have too, if he wasn't too busy trying to figure out if he could risk another lick without Draco shoving him away in disgust. But he hadn't the first time, had he? No, he'd come to a stand-still, breathing slowly in and out, like he was just waiting for Harry to do it again. 

Because Draco wanted him to, didn't he? The realization dawned like a sudden bright morning sky and giddiness rushed through Harry's body. He knew he was behaving oddly—similar to the time when Seamus had snuck firewhisky up to the dorms back in sixth year after Gryffindor had won against Hufflepuff, and Harry had done silly things like use Ron's Chudley Cannons boxers as a hat and run through their dorm, swinging his arms like a monkey. They had seemed like good ideas at the time. 

But this idea, even more so. 

With great care, Harry licked a long wet stripe up Draco's neck, flicking his tongue at the corner of Draco's jaw. Soft skin and sweat and Draco's intoxicating scent assaulted Harry's senses. Draco curled his fingers into Harry's waist and trembled against him. Harry wondered if it was a good tremble or a bad tremble—Harry didn't have any experience licking a bloke's neck before—but Draco hadn't pushed him away. Instead he'd gathered Harry closer. One moment they stood clutched together in the centre of the hallway, the next Harry was shoved into a shadowy alcove, the hard angles of Draco's body trapping him against the stone wall. 

Harry wasn't about to complain. 

The sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor, but they felt so very far away as Harry looked into Draco's eyes. His gaze dipped down to Draco's thin pink lips. Draco muttered something about the potion and the small amount that had sunk into Harry's skin, but Harry was too distracted to try to make sense of it. Because Draco's mouth was perfect. It looked soft, inviting, and called to Harry with a sweet siren's song. 

Harry parted his lips and leaned forward. Draco's breath ghosted over Harry's mouth in a teasing caress. 

"Potter—you're not thin—"

Harry cut off Draco's troublesome words with a kiss. 

As soon as their lips touched, hot spikes of pleasure rippled throughout Harry's body. He felt helpless against them and his hands fumbled down Draco's waist, fingers twisting into his robes. He needed skin, he craved it, but Draco's lips moved against him and his tongue slipped into Harry's mouth, and all Harry could do was cling to him and hang on for the ride. 

"Potter—" Draco whispered pulling back, though his lips hovered close enough to brush against Harry's as he spoke. "I won't be—"

"Just shut it and kiss me again," Harry said. He jerked Draco even closer and to Harry's delight, Draco brought their lips together once more. Harry kissed him greedily, swiping his tongue along the seam of his lips to beg for entrance; Draco drew him inside, letting out a quiet little moan that sent a shiver dancing down Harry's spine. 

Something long and deliciously hard butted against his thigh as Draco shoved Harry's legs apart with a blunt knee. Draco rolled his hips in tight smooth circles, giving Harry the friction for which he desperately yearned, yet had never realised. Their kiss became frantic, messy. Harry's chest filled with pure need. He imitated Draco's movements the best he could, but he was drunk with Draco—with his lips and his hands and the incredible heat of his body.

Draco broke their kiss to pant into Harry's neck, one hand winding into Harry's hair, the other dipping into Harry's robes and beneath the hem of his shirt. Finally his palm reached Harry's skin and trembles erupted all over Harry's body. Pleasure coursed through him like a raging river, his muscles tightening as he rutted against Draco at a breakneck speed, Draco barely able to match his rhythm. Then all at once, Draco stilled and Harry throbbed long and hard, shaking within the strength of Draco's embrace. 

A warm wetness seeped into his trousers at his thigh and his groin, but Harry didn't have the strength to care. He collapsed against the stone wall, fought to catch his breath, and Draco pulled away, disentangling himself from Harry's slackened grip. Harry closed his eyes. Satisfaction seeped through his bones. 

"How do you feel?" 

Harry's eyes snapped open. It was as if he'd been splashed awake with cold water, yanking him out of a wonderful dream. 

But it hadn't been a dream. Draco was real before him, his expression inscrutable, his normally pale skin flush with an attractive pink. And they had just...Harry had just... 

"Oh my God," Harry rasped. He waited for the castle to swallow him up whole—the castle had always been so nice to him before—but despite his inward begging, the floor below him remained intact and Harry was trapped in the alcove. Trapped with Draco. 

Draco nodded. "It was a small dose. It should be out of your system by now." 

"Just two drops! I didn't even ingest it," Harry protested. Draco's lips—still thin and pink and, now that Harry knew how they tasted, nearly as irresistible as before—slid into a slanted smile. 

"Yes. It should have barely affected you, unless you were already harboring...certain desires." 

Harry gaped, a fiery hot blush spreading from his cheeks down to his neck. But before he could even think of a response, Draco pressed the vial into his palm. 

"Perhaps next time, you'll wait and have an accident after class." 

With one last sweeping gaze, Draco righted his robes and strode back down the corridor, his words still echoing in Harry's head. 

_Next time._

 

-FIN-


End file.
